Four Times
by love.eat.write
Summary: Four times Henri Leclair and Agnes Towler met during the Great War. A totally LeTowler story. Rated M for a reason. Can be read as a continuation for "For his love"
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Everyone! This is my second fanfic from the Mr. Selfridge fandom... I don't know if there are people still reading from this fandom, but this just came to my mind and I had to write it.**

 **This story is the second part for my other story, For his love... but both of them can be read independently and still be completely understood.**

 **One last thing, my mother language is not english, it's spanish... so please forgive me if I make a mistake or two...**

* * *

Extended Summary: Agnes and Henri found and lost each other four times: When he left for NY, when he came back, when she reject him and then when he left for war. Four times they found and lost each other, and four times they met too, during war. Because four is a strong number in their lives.

* * *

 **Chapter one: The night that started it all.**

After Victor had told her to go and find her true love, she had not hesitated. The reasons that brought her here had been abrupt and painful, but she was ready to endure all kind of pain, because at the end of the day being with Henri Leclair was worth it.

She knew he had to go: she had seen the same fierce determination in her brother's eyes a year ago. That didn't mean she didn't fear what lay ahead. Anyway, even if he didn't go, the French government would eventually summon him up, and if he didn't show up to fight he would be considered a deserter and would never be able to go back to his country.

Her old two-bedroom apartment, the one she had bought for her and George after she came back from Paris, looked empty, cold and unfamiliar now. She had left it after she went to live with Miss Mardle, but hadn't found it in her to put it on sale. The flat was a reminder that her brother, George, would come home to her and that they would go back to living together.

Of course, then Victor had proposed and she knew she had to sell it, that she would not go back here…. But couldn't do it, not even in that moment.

Agnes reached the switcher and turned on the lights. Henri looked around, taking in all the views.

Her taste was incredible. There wasn't a lot of furniture (why would she need it, anyway) but there were the necessary to make a home. A big and comfortable-looking sofa, a small table. Some bookshelves in the right wall and pictures and paintings in the left one. Then, there was a small corridor, which led to the two bedrooms and the bathroom. On the left side, there was another small entrance to what he thought was the kitchen.

"So, what do you think?" Agnes asked him. He turned to look at her and smiled.

"It's beautiful, mon chéri. You certainly have a good taste when it comes to decoration" He answered her wholehearted. She smiled.

"Well, I had a good teacher" He grinned. They stood like that for a few seconds, and then Agnes took the word again.

"In the kitchen there are some wine bottles and glasses. Could you please bring some?" She asked the Frenchman. He smiled and went into it.

Agnes looked around the apartment and sighed. Last time she had been alone with him, with clear intentions to do what they would be doing a in a few moments, she had been in his rented apartment. That was six years ago, and so much had changed since that moment.

Agnes walked inside what used to be her bedroom. The place had stayed the same, plain and simple. She had never been a collector, and detested to have useless things in her house. So her bedroom was simple and modest: A big double size bed, a nightstand on each side. A wardrobe in front of it, and another small table by its side, with a radio on it. At the right side of the bed, there was a fully large looking mirror.

She stood in front of it; looking at the image it gave her back. She was wearing a rather loosely dress that night. Underneath it, she was wearing her corset and underskirts, her chemise and stockings.

 _"_ _One step at a time"_ She thought to herself.

First, she unlaced her boots, freeing her feet from them. She left them on the right side of her bed, stuck in there. After that, she started unbuttoning her dress. There were many, and she didn't want to torn it apart.

That was when she heard the door being open, and Henri's figure appeared.

Henri looked at the woman in front of him, barefoot, her dress half undone, and gulped.

He had done this a hundred, thousand time. But it had been long, really long since last time; and especially long since he had seen her like this.

He left the glasses and the bottle of wine over the small night table she had in her bedroom, and walked towards her, drinking her in with his eyes.

"Let me" He said, in his strong French accent, and Agnes nodded.

Henri Leclair stood in front of her, his hands started to finish the work she had began moments ago. He took his time to undo all the buttons, and then he put on of the sleeves down, then the other. Agnes allowed him, and with a single movement her dress fell on the floor, pooling around her feet.

She now stood in front of him, in her corset and underskirts. He breathed in, admiring the beautiful woman in front of her. The last time he had seen her, she was just a girl, nineteen years old. His beautiful English rose. Now, she was a woman through and through.

He didn't say anything, just walked round her, until he was at her back. He could hear how her breathing became faster and faster, her heart frenetic.

Henri touched her bare shoulders, admiring her skin, how soft it was. He watched her pinned hair, and suddenly wanted to touch it and let it loose. He had wanted it a thousand times, back when they were lovers and also at work. He loved how her face looked when she wore her hair loose.

And now he could. Now he could watch her, touch her. So he did it. He put his hands on her hair, took out the straps and let it loose, as a cascade.

He noticed that Agnes wore her hair shorter, as it was fashionable these days (and probably practical for work). When she was younger, it had reached her lower back. Now it only reached her shoulders.

He brushed her hair, caressing her head. And then, proceed to put his hands on her shoulders. Henri leaned in, kissing each one, as his hands rested in her bodice. He started unlacing the corset, careful not to hurt her as he did so. He knew how constricted these things were, and although he had dedicated his whole life to decorate manikins with woman's clothes, he couldn't understand how they bared to wear this every day.

Agnes had closed her eyes and soon as Henri's lips had touched her skin, breathing in all the new and old sensations.

 _How could she live without this?_ How could she have thought she would have been able to live without his lips, his kisses, his touches? Henri could ignite a fire inside her no one else could.

After some long, excruciating seconds, he finished unlacing her corset, and retiring it from her body. The underskirts were much easier: they only had a few buttons and one lace. Now, Agnes stood in nothing more than her chemise, her stockings and knickers.

He looked at her through the grand mirror in front of them. Her body had certainly changed since the last time he had seen her naked.

Six years ago, her body was still forming. Now, her breasts were fuller, bigger. Her hips were also wider, and she had more meat in her tights and lower stomach. Agnes had bloomed into a beautiful woman, and not for the first time he regretted not being there to see all those changes.

He had been so stupid, and wasted so many years.

But none of that matter right now. He was off to fight a war by tomorrow afternoon, and he had to enjoy all the time he had left with her. His Agnes, his English rose.

Not wanting to stay even an inch away from her any longer, he pressed his body into hers, and he moaned when his erection touched her butt. She moaned too, and in mare seconds he had spun her around, making her fall into the bed.

They kissed fiercely, after so long of not doing so. In their kiss they were telling each other everything they couldn't tell out aloud _: Why did you leave me? I'm so sorry, I was stupid! I love you; I've loved you all these years. Please don't go._

Their kiss was a battle for dominance, not one of them wanting to give it up.

Finally, Henri gave up, letting her win, because he had other places he rather kiss.

So, he grabbed her by her tiny waist, hopping her up and putting both of them more comfortable on the large bed. And then, he started kissing his way down. He kissed her neck, biting and sucking. He knew that would leave a mark in her body, and he also knew it was childish for him to do so (and probably imprudent, as she would have to wear a scarf or long necks and hide it) but he couldn't help himself. He had waited so long, so long to kiss her, to make her his again.

Because she was his and only his.

Then, he kissed her collarbone. She had a lovely collarbone, so slender, so feminine. He could feel her pulse underneath his lips, fast and strong, and he thanks the Gods for it.

When he reached her breasts, Agnes finally slipped his name through her lips. "Henri" She whispered, in a voice full of lust and love. Her hands went to his hair, pulling from it. Oh, god, how she loved his hair. She loved every part of his body, that body that had thought her how to love.

He loved her body, too. Her breast felt different from the last time he had kissed them, all those years ago. But the skin felt the same, so her, so _Agnes_.

He made his way further, now kissing her stomach, thinking if maybe, one day; it would be round and proud with his child.

" _Don't think about it, not now"_ He scolded himself. He wanted nothing more than little hers and his running around, jumping into their arms as they came back from the Store after a long day at work. But this was not the time to think about it.

So he continued his way down, kissing her hipbone. Agnes was breathing faster than before now, her hands more insistent.

And when his lips finally touched her core, her center, she cried out his name one more time.

If there was something absolutely great about having a French lover was that they certainly knew how to do this particular thing. Not that she had been with an Englishman, but she knew (from gossips and her colleagues) that not every man would be doing this.

She tried to stand still, breathing on the sweet torture and pleasure of what he was doing. He introduced one finger in her and she leaned forward into his touch.

Henri, by his side, was absolutely aroused by what he was seeing. If there was something he enjoyed very much in love making, was being able to make a woman feel pleasure, feel like this. And that said woman was Agnes… so this was driving him crazy without even being inside of her.

He loved how she tasted and smelled, and wanted to remember this sweet taste and smell. So he continued, until he felt Agnes started shaking.

"Oh, god…Oh, Henri… I" She was speaking by lapses now, not being able to make one single thought.

He pressed harder into her, his fingers never letting go of inside of her, and stopped what he was doing with his mouth just a minute.

"It's okay, my love. Give into it" He went back to use his tongue to what he was doing moments ago, and a few seconds later Agnes released, screaming his name, his tongue still inside of her. He drank what she was offering him, and then stood up.

Agnes stayed a few seconds without saying a word, just breathing, her eyes close. But then she opened them, a huge grin on her face.

Henri chuckled.

"I guess you liked that" He told her, and she laughed this time.

"You can say so" She answered, "It had been so long" She whispered, and he nodded.

"I know" Finally, she looked at him and laughed.

"It's good to know you make justice to what it's said about your people" She pointed out and he giggled.

"I guess it is" He answered, and then Agnes realized, for the first time in the night, that he was still fully dressed. The only thing he wasn't wearing were his shoes, which he must have pulled off when he climbed into her bed, but the rest of his clothes were still on his body.

"Why are you still dressed?" She questioned him, with a voice as if it was a crime.

He laughed at her comment.

"Well, I was too preoccupied about getting you undress, Mon Chéri" She rolled her eyes and stood up.

Years ago, shy and innocent Agnes would have wanted nothing more than to cover herself. But she wasn't that woman anymore. He had showed her what was really good.

So she stood up, naked and smelling as him, in front of him, and grabbed on the helm of his jacket, pulling it down. He let her, extending his arms.

She threw the jacket onto the floor.

"Well, we have to fix that"

He had been careful and slow in her undressing, but she wasn't. She didn't want to wait, she wanted to see him naked, right now.

And she did. After retrieving his jacket, she proceeds to undo his shirt, bowtie and lower his suspenders. They were all easily removed, the items placed on the floor now.

And finally, she got the occasion to admire his body. He had changed, too. Years ago, he had been in the top of his youth, thirty years old. He had been all muscle and marked lines. Now, six years later and after his fast and terrible decay, he wasn't as before. He remain strong and muscular, but a bit more of a belly and fat was around his torso.

It didn't matter. For Agnes, he was still the most handsome man she had ever seen. She touched his body, letting herself remember what it felt like. And then, she spread her legs, straddling his lap. Now, it was Henri time to breath hard and fast. He was already fully aroused, and Agnes was careful not to hurt him when she undid his breeches, bringing them down with his underpants.

His body was still marvelous, strong and fierce. And she loved it, she loved him.

With a movement, Henri pulled her closer to him kissing her fiercely. Her lower abdomen came straight into his arousal, and she sight.

She wanted him; she needed him inside of her. Now.

She needed to feel him everywhere, to know that he wasn't going to leave her.

So she did. She pressed onto his chest, making him fall into the bed. And she straddled her legs once again, placing her center at his crotch's level.

Henri didn't ask her if she was sure this time, as when they were younger. No, he understood that right now she needed and wanted this. More than anything.

So he let her lead the way. Agnes took on his erection with her hand, and he moaned. And then, with a movement, she put him inside of her, letting him fill her in.

At first, there was a sharp pain. She wasn't' a virgin anymore, far from it, but it had been six years since she had been with anyone- with him – and it hurt her.

Henri began to move, but only a few seconds later he noticed she wasn't moving with him and stopped.

"My love?" He asked her with a heavy voice. "Is everything alright?" She had her eyes shut, trying to get used to his size, his body inside of her.

"Yes, Henri" She answered, "It's just… it's been a long time. I need to get used to it again" She answered him, and he nodded.

And then, it hit him.

"Agnes" He asked her, "Have you been with anyone since…well-"

"Since you?" She completed his question and shook her head, "No, you are my one and only"

Henri thought he could cry in that moment. She had waited for him. Even if she didn't know it at the time, she had waited for him… and he hadn't. He had run away with another woman, making love to her, kissing her. And when she left him, he started going to brothels or whoever wanted to be with him.

He didn't deserve her. He didn't deserve this girl.

"What?" Agnes asked him, more to distract herself from the pain. She knew once it faded away, the real fun would begin, "Did you really think I had been with someone else?" She asked him. She hadn't have sex with him all those years ago because she was bored. She had done it because, even though she hadn't realized it back then, she was already in love with him.

"Well" He answered, "You _did_ go to Paris…" She laughed.

"Oh, yes, _Paris_ " she repeated his words and then looked at him, "Yes, that was the most masochist thing I ever did" He was truly intrigued now. What did she mean by that? "Everything in there remained me of you. All the stories you told me about France, and everyone speaking in that French accent of yours… I even thought I could see you… but I wouldn't have changed my time for nothing. It was wonderful, and I learnt a lot" She finished. Henri closed his eyes, her words coming like bricks to him.

 _What had he done? Why had he put both of them under such pain, such despair?_

He couldn't say that with words. He couldn't tell her how sorry he was, so he did the only thing he could.

He sat up right, and kissed her, fiercely, making her forget everything. The war that was ringing on the other side of the channel, and his imminent departure. Her pain, everything.

He switched places, now Agnes beneath him. He knew that her being on top would be the most pleasurable position, but from this angle he could manage the situation and make her feel better.

So, he trusted more into her, a sound escaping her lips, and then brought his hand to the one part that was joining them. He reached inside of her for that tiny, little button of pleasure, and when he found it he started massaging it.

Agnes immediately forgot the pain. All she could feel now was pleasure. Her folds were already wet from her previous released, and although she had felt pain at the begging, now she felt in pure ecstasy.

She started moving, and Henri sighed, finally being able to do it himself. He felt as if he was going to explode if he stood still one more minute.

His trusts and her movements became more frenetic, desperate; and they both knew they wouldn't last, as their foreplay had been long, sweet and patient; but now they needed this. They needed to reach their climax, touch heaven with their hands together, and know that no one or anything would keep them apart.

A few minutes later, they reached their goal. Agnes came in first, Henri waiting for her. She felt the strong pull as she explode, something she hadn't felt in a long, long time. And seconds later Henri followed her, screaming her name and some curses in French, making her smile.

They stood like that for a few seconds, both still joined. Henri made sure not to put all his weight over her, letting her breath and recover. He was touching her hair, caressing it and their faces inches from the other; while Agnes was stroking his chest, playing with the few hairs in it.

Agnes knew that they should get up, clean after themselves and leave the apartment. But she couldn't find the strength in her to leave him. She wanted to spend every second, every minute with him until tomorrow's afternoon (or today's afternoon, better said).

And then, suddenly, Henri spoke.

"Marry me" He said. And Agnes thought she could die right there, "Marry me, Agnes Towler"

She didn't say a word for the first minutes, and Henri waited, watching her.

She had just broke off an engagement… was she ready to step into another one?

And then, she realized she had always known the answer. She had been ready for this for a long time. Ever since he had invited her to his house, six years ago.

She had never truly loved Victor, because her heart had always belonged to the eccentric Frenchman in bed with her.

So Agnes looked at him, a smile on her face.

"Yes" She answered, "I will marry you, Henri Leclair"

* * *

The second time they made love that night was tender and gentle, no rush. They re-discovering each other's body, touching, feeling.

And at last, when they both came, their releases lasted longer than it had ever been.

* * *

The third time, it had been like a fire burning a building. He had started kissing her from behind, and in mere seconds he was inside of her, trusting her hard.

They were both damaging each other, but they didn't care. They both wanted that: they pain, the sorrow. The pain Agnes was feeling as he trusted inside of her, hard and savage, was well received by her, because it made her remember he was still there, with her.

So by the time they both came, screaming each other's name, pulling their nails in their bodies, they were practically crying.

And seconds later, they were.

They held in a tight embrace for a long time, silent tears in both their faces.

How could destiny be so cruel? Why had it make them be apart, only to bring them together to lose each other again?

* * *

The fourth time they made love was in the early morning. None of them had slept all night, except for a few minutes here and there, between one time and the other.

The fourth time started lazily. They kissed, and kissed, and kissed. And before they could even notice it, he was inside of her, both of them moving along.

It had been so easy; it was where they both belonged.

And then, morning arrived. People started to wake up, different smells and noises through her window. And they cried. Agnes cried in her loved one's arms, harder than she had ever before in her life. And Henri did too, because he had waited so long, so long for this… and now he had to lose it, again.

But it was okay. Because now, they had found each other, and nothing would keep them apart.

* * *

A new day arrived, far too soon for their wishes, and they tried to spend as much as they could together. But both of them had some things to do, and proceed to take care of them.

For instance, Agnes was still working today, so after they had a well deserved shower and bought some breakfast for themselves at one of the stores outside Agnes' flat, they led the way toward Selfridges.

The streets were now full of woman and children walking by themselves, and the only men that could be seen were boys, old men or soldiers, either leaving for war or coming back for their leave.

They walked pass through them, holding their hands. That was until they reached the store and Agnes spotted someone there: Victor.

She froze on her feet, and Henri noticed that. For a moment, he was too tempted to take her away, away from Victor's eyes. But he knew he couldn't: he had to be better. The boy had brought his Agnes back to him, and he had to be better than that.

Victor lifted up his gaze and saw them. The woman that until yesterday was to be his wife and the man she truly loved. He kept his eyes on both of them, and then headed towards the Store's doors.

Henri looked at Agnes, who was still gazing at the doors. She wanted to follow the waiter, he knew that.

"Go, my love" He told her. Agnes looked at him, surprised. Suddenly all the men that loved her acted strangely and said the least expected things, "I have to go and talk to Harry about something very important, and you should go and talk to him. He's a good man, you said it yourself. You owe a conversation"

Agnes smiled at that incredible man standing at her side, so understanding, so loving. Without thinking, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips onto his. She knew there were out, in the open and that people would speak, but she couldn't care less.

"Thank you, Henri" Was all she said, before stepping in the building and going to find Victor

* * *

When Henri finished his explanation, Harry's eyes were as big as plates.

"So, let me get this right" His friend told him, standing up from his chair and walking round his office, "Miss Towler is now going to marry you, and not Victor Colleano?" He asked, in disbelief.

Henri nodded, understanding his confusion.

"Yes, I know it's-"

"IT'S GREAT NEWS!" His friend shouted, a huge smile on his face, "Oh, Henri my dear friend… you don't know how happy I am to hear this! To know that all of this ended up so great for you! It was about time you realized your feelings for Miss Towler" Now it was Henri's time gape like a fish and look at his friend in disbelief.

"Wait, but…. Harry… you are saying…how…" Harry laughed again. It was then that Henri noticed that his friend's eyes were red and tired, as if he had been crying all night…

"Oh, come on Henri! You and I, we go back a long way! I've known you for what? Ten years? Even more I think! When you were here, six years ago, it was so obvious that you were so in love with Miss Towler… but I didn't want to say anything, I knew you had to find out by yourself" His friend explain, and Henri became more and more confuse…

"But, how… how did you realize it?" Harry laughed again. He really needed a reason to laugh, to be happy after last night horrible news, and his friend was giving him the best news anyone could.

"It was so obvious! You were always asking for her. 'Oh, Harry, could Miss Towler please come and help me with the window? Harry, I really love Miss Towler's insight on the display, could I ask her to come with me?" Harry said, trying to speak with Henri's French accent which only made the man in question roll his eyes, "Why do you think I mentioned her when you came back to my house months ago? I knew she would be the only reason you'd come back to the store!" When Henri heard his words he stood still, shocked by this revelation… of course he knew, of course Harry Gordon Selfridge would know it! Suddenly his friend turned serious, "That was, also why I didn't want you to leave for New York… I knew you were making a mistake, that your heart did no longer belonged to Valerie but to Miss Towler" He said the last part in a low voice, as if regretting not saying it sooner.

And Henri looked at his friend, gratitude on his face. Oh, how could have he been so foolish? Of course Harry hadn't been angry at him that day because he was leaving him… it was because his best friend knew he was giving up the only chance he had to find happiness… If only he had listened to him!

But there was no time for if only's right now…

"God, Harry! You really _are_ a matchmaker!" He said and his friend laughed.

"You don't realize how much I needed this good news, my friend" He told him, and his eyes instantly filled with tears, remembering what his wife had told him last night.

 _"_ _I'm dying, Harry"_

Henri had not been the only one who had lost so much time with the people he loved…

And his friend in question looked at him, not understanding. So Harry told him all about it.

By the end of the conversation, the Frenchman was shocked, sitting on the small sofa.

"Harry… I'm so sorry" He said. Harry waved his hand.

"It's okay" He answered, "Rose is right… there are some things no one can fix… not even me. I just wished we had had more time. We lost so much of it fighting; I lost so much of it…"

Both men look into each other's eyes, saying nothing but everything at the same time.

Harry was going to lose his wife. There was no way out of it. And Henri was just about to fight the worst war mankind had seen in a long, long time.

This was where their choices and fates had brought them. But anything that happened, they knew they could always count on the other.

* * *

St Pancreas station was full of people running from one side to the other. Children leaning on their parent's sides, crying, asking them not to leave. Their mothers closed by, trying to look strong for their children.

Couples saying goodbye, promising each other they would be reunited. A wishful thinking more than anything else.

And Agnes wondered how many of them, the women that were left behind, waiting, would see their husbands, fiancés and lovers again.

The thought made her grip Henri's hand tighter, not wanting to let him go. His gray suit stunned in the crowd of men wearing green uniforms. Agnes knew his uniform wouldn't be green, but blue, and wished she could see him in it.

His train left for Dover at two o'clock. From there, he would take a boat to Calais and then another train leading him to Paris.

"What are you going to do, when you get to Paris?" She asked her -now -fiancé.

"I'll go to an apartment I have there" He answered, "Well, it's not actually mine, more like my family's… but it's the same. I will leave my things there and then go to the registry office, to enlist" She nodded.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" She wondered, for the millionth time in the day, "I could stay with you until they send you away… I'm sure I could explain it to Mr. Selfridge, somehow…" He shook his head.

"No, Mon Chéri. I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind at all, but even if the fight is not in Paris, France is not secure at the moment. Not a single part of it. And I don't want you to be in the middle. Anyway, I will just be there one night and a day, and it seems unpractical for you to do such a long trip just for one day" She waved her head.

"If it means I get one more day and night with you, it's everything but unpractical" He smirked, knowing she wouldn't let this go.

"It's okay, mon Chéri. We will see each other again, I promise you. I won't be sent to the battlefield right away. They will send me to a training center first, surely one in the outskirts of Paris…. I will train there for six weeks and then I will have one week leave" He explained to her. Henri took Agnes' face in his big hands, looking right into her eyes. "I will come back for that week. I promise you. And on every leave I get, I will come and visit you, even if it's just for a few seconds" His words were strong and powerful. This was his promise for her, and she knew it. So she nodded, tears now running through her cheeks.

"Okay, I believe you, Henri Leclair" Her words were as passionate and powerful as hers. She leaned on, pressing her lips on his. Automatically, Henri opened his mouth, taking hers on his, his tongue looking for hers. He loved to kiss her like this, wholehearted and not just a small one. He was, after all, French. After some seconds, they broke apart, but Agnes kept their foreheads united, "Please take care, my love. I know how those French girls are like, deadlier than a German bullet!" She joked him, the same joke she had done to Victor months ago when he enlisted with George.

Henri laughed at her comment, shaking his head.

"Don't worry, my love. Because the only woman I want is back in this country" He assured her, and Agnes smiled at him. He thought for a minute, suddenly noticing the weight of the small box on his coat. He wanted to do this after he came back from war… but he realized he wanted to do this now, sealing the promise he had made to her last night.

Henri looked at his beloved Agnes and took a step back, creating a small distance between them. She looked back at him, confused and intrigued. And then, the Frenchman kneeled down, one knee on the floor, his other leg extended. Agnes gave a small cry, bringing her hands to her face, covering it. She couldn't believe he was actually going to do this.

Henri took her left hand. "Agnes Towler" He started, "I know I've already asked this last night, but I want to do it properly now, because you deserve it, so, would you make me the happiest man on earth, and agree to marry me?" By now, there was a little crowd surrounding them. Women crying and men smiling, yelling at her "Say yes, woman!" So Agnes just nodded, frenetically, until she had recovered her speech abilities again:

"Yes, Henri Leclair" She answered, "I will marry you. Now and always" Henri's smiled lightened up his whole face. For a moment, he forgot he was at St Pancreas's station because he was going back to France to fight a war. For a moment he was the happiest man on earth, indeed.

His mother's old ring fitted Agnes' annular finger perfectly. He had collected it in the morning, when he went back to Harry's house to gather the last of his belongings and saying farewell to his best friend's family. Talking to Rose had proved to be harder than anything else, knowing he might not see her again. She had found him when he didn't want to be found, and if he hadn't been for the good and kind woman, he might have never been able to rebuild his life.

He stood up, and Agnes immediately went to his side, grabbing him by his neck and kissing her fiancée fiercely.

A few minutes later, Henri was inside the train, the White Cliffs of Dover being his next destination. But for the first time since she had known he was heading to war, she didn't feel frightened. Maybe this was what every woman told herself at this moment, but she believed, more than anything, that their love was stronger than anything on earth.

* * *

 **So, how did you like it? There will be four more chapters, each one about the four times they meet during the war... I have already written them, so send reviews or tell me if you liked it and I will update them!**

 **Cheers,**

 **V,**


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello Again! How are you? I've seen that I got some readers for this story, but only a few ones (5 or 6 I think)- I always knew this would be a difficult fandom, as this TV Show has already ended. So, if there's anyone still reading this (I say two views from the US and one from the UK), please write me a review or PM me, so I know there are people reading this. Because if that's not the case, I don't really see the point in posting this anymore! haha_

 _Okay, so, something important before you start reading this chapter: **In this one I mention some "historical facts" which I KNOW are not accurate at all. The US didn't enter the army until a while longer, etc; than what I mention here. But I needed it to write the chapter and, hey, it's fiction!**_

 _So, having that in mind... I invite you to go on and read it!_

 _Cheers,_

V.

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Six weeks.**

The first time they see each other again after he enlisted, it was 1915, six weeks later after his departure.

Life at the store had been getting more and more complicated, day by day. Without Henri's help, she had double work, and Thackeray had been getting extremely annoying those past weeks.

By now, it was no secret in the store that Henri Leclair and Agnes Towler were engaged, and after the first week's gossip had died out, Agnes found out she sincerely didn't care.

So they wanted to call her by mean nicknames, saying she was a gold-digger? They wanted to talk badly about her, pointing out she had left Victor Colleano for the extravagant Henri Leclair?

So be it.

They didn't know half what Henri had to endure the past months, how he had lost almost everything, and that she truly couldn't care less about his money or position.

The only thing she regretted was that now Victor was under the spotlight, and she didn't want to bring more pain into her friend's life.

Her brother George had been called to the front a week ago, and now she had two people to worry about. He had taken the news quite well, considering Victor was his best friend. The truth was that George had always known his sister loved another man, and that if she had chosen to marry Victor it was more to get the stability a man like him could offer. Not financially, but emotionally.

So now, Agnes had been left alone with her thoughts and her life.

Well, not entirely.

She still had Josie Mardle, the colleague which had become her best friend and a motherly figure in Agnes' life. She knew about her romance with the much younger Belgian musician, Florian, and Agnes couldn't care less. He made her friend happy, and he was a good, kind and decent man. So damn everyone and their prejudice… why could a man be with a much younger woman, but not the other way around?

When Agnes had appeared with her hand wearing an engagement ring, but not the one she had worn before, everyone had started asking questions.

And she hadn't lied to anyone.

When the shop girls asked her who had given her the ring, she simply answered: "Mr. Leclair"

Why should she lie to them? Why should she lie about the love of her life? She had been denying it, denying _him_ , for a long time, and it was about time to stop doing that.

So, now, the Store was divided.

Half of it thought Henri and Agnes were the greatest love story ever told: The mentor and protégée falling in love, under extreme circumstances and a lot of pain. _Ha!_ And they didn't even know half of it! Of course this group's leader was Miss Mardle and the Accessories girls, who loved Agnes.

On the other hand, there was the group that thought that what they had done had been inappropriate and outrageous. This side was clearly leaded by Mr. Thackeray, who spoke ill of both of them.

Luckily to her, Mr. Harry Selfridge himself belonged to the first group, so no one would dare speak like that that inside the store… unless they wanted to be sacked right away by Harry.

Her relationship with Mr. Selfridge had also changed a lot in those past six weeks.

He had asked her if he could start calling her by her Christian name when they were not a work.

" _You have always been my friend, Miss Towler, but now that you are about to be my best friend's wife you will become en even closer friend!" He had told her one afternoon._

She soon discovered that what Harry Selfridge needed, too, was someone he could count on. Henri had been his closest and truest – if not the only- friend he had always had. With his wife slowly dying and Henri fighting, he felt as if he was being left alone in this universe. At home he had to put on a good face for the sake of his children and Rose herself, and at work he had to do the same for his employees and customers. He knew that if Henri had been here, he could have told him anything. But he was gone now, and the only person left who could listen to him, was Agnes.

So the two of them had become closer, going from time to time out to have dinner or lunch and he talked to her about his Rose, about how she was getting worse day by day and how he didn't know what he was going to do if he lost her. In return, she had found another friend in Harry, maybe the one she had lost in Victor, because she couldn't go and tell the Italian boy how much she missed her French fiancé.

This had meant, of course, that rumors had started to rise up inside the store about Agnes and Harry being lovers. He had, after all, a certain reputation… and people just started talking.

Agnes knew this and tried not to care for it, but sometimes it was too much.

It was just like that how she felt that day, as she was sketching on her office, after an awful argument she had just had with the vile Mr. Thackeray, when he appeared.

"Agh! I _hate_ him!" She screamed exasperated. He had dissembled all her displays in the fashion department, saying they weren't suited for his collection.

"Just tell me the name and I'll deal with it" A voice she recognized far too well said behind her back, Henri's strong accent making each word more wonderful.

Agnes immediately spun her head, surprise written in her face.

"HENRI!" She shouted, and ran towards him. He laughed too, and wrapped her in his arms, happy he could have her in them. They started kissing, passionately, all those past weeks' emotions in their hearts.

They just stayed like that for fifteen minutes, not saying anything, just swapping from kisses to laughing.

That was when Agnes noticed the clothes Henri was wearing, making her smile. She then realized she hadn't seen them before because she had been expecting for a green uniform, but this one wasn't.

Henri was wearing a dark blue uniform with white and red touches, the French flag's colors. The uniform made him even more regal and handsome, and Agnes breathed him in.

"How- Why didn't you tell me you were coming, Henri?" She asked him, and he laughed.

"I wanted it to be a surprise, _mon chéri_ " He explained, and she shook her head.

"But… I could have gone and talk to Harry… Mr. Selfridge I mean… and ask him for a few days off so I could be with you" She told him. Henri smiled when he heard his love call his best friend by his birth name.

" _Harry_? When did you get to informal with your boss?" He joked. Agnes stiffed a little, but she tried to get it unnoticed by him. His remark only made her think about the gossips.

"Oh, it's that since you left we've become a bit closer… you know with you gone… and Rose ill… he's having a really hard time. I think he could use a friend… and you've practically told him to put me under his wing, _haven't you_?" She asked him and he laughed. He was glad his friend knew he could trust in Agnes, that he saw her for the formidable woman she was.

"Well, I _might_ have told him to keep an eye on you…" He answered and she gave him a playful punch and she said "Henri!"

"You know, the uniform really suits you" She told him and he smiled even wider. Henri grabbed her by her hips, bringing her closer to him. Agnes immediately threw her arms around Henri's neck.

"Oh, is _that_ so…?" He playfully asked, coming a bit closer to her, "So, would you like to take it _out_ of me?" He kisses her neck, breathing in her scent again. Lily of the Valley, he remembers. It's the only perfume she has used since they created it, six years ago. She moaned.

 _Oh, god_ … how she had miss this the past six weeks. But then Agnes remembered where she was.

This was her office (their office, she told herself. His side of the office was just waiting for him), it was the middle of the day and anyone could come in.

"Oh no, Henri! We can't! Not now, not _here_!" She scolded him, but his kisses lowered into every part her dress wasn't covering, and she couldn't formulate a correct thought.

"No one is looking" He marked out, his voice filled with lust and love. And then, he pressed harder into her, making Agnes give a few steps back and hitting her work table with her butt. His body was all over hers now, and she could feel his erection on her stomach.

" _Really_?" She asked, with a cut voice, "You are already ready?" Sometimes she couldn't believe it. He was in his late thirties, for god's sake!

He chuckle against her neck, "You always make me ready" And with that, he put his hands on her butt, lifting her up. Agnes lost all control over herself when he did that.

Suddenly, they were kissing as hard as they could. A few seconds later Henri kissed his way down, trying to cover as much skin as he could. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, her chest. One of his hands grabbed on her right breast, squishing it, and the other hand travelled to her crotch, sliding through the folds of her dress and underskirt, reaching her knickers.

At every touch, Agnes moaned but she tried to keep the noises as low as she could. Only a few meters away, there were all the other offices, and the last things she wanted was for someone to enter and find her like this.

Henri felt on fire. He had been dreaming about this for so long, all those past weeks. He didn't know how he would endure it when he couldn't see her for longer times, but he then thought that with bombs falling right at his side he wouldn't mind much.

As soon as he thought of that he tried to put it aside. Now it wasn't the time to think about the war, now was the time to love.

Agnes found out that as much as she loved how the uniform looked on him, she would love more to feel his well-pattern torso. So without breaking their kiss, she took of his uniform jacket, throwing it into the floor. Henri let her, and then she lowered his suspenders. Now that they had started, she had such an urgency inside her body she couldn't even describe it. She needed, just needed to have him inside of her, filling her, completing her.

So her hands immediately flew to his trousers, undoing his buttons, lowering his underpants and freeing his erection from the constricted trousers.

The urgency in both their movements was obvious, and neither of them had time for foreplay or games. They just wanted to be connected, were they belonged.

So Henri didn't waste any time with his fiancée's garments. He just pulled her dress and underskirt up, and with one hand took off her knickers, leaving them in between her knees.

Henri looked right into her eyes, silently asking for permission, although they had reached this point, this still was her workplace and he needed her to say it. She just nodded, all the permission he needed being given.

With one single trust, Henri entered in Agnes' wet and tights folds, felling her in. They couldn't help the loud moan that escaped both their mouths when they were finally connected.

She was sitting on the hard desk, and her butt hurt, but she couldn't care less. This felt like heaven on earth, and they both started moving, frenetically.

Their pace started becoming more and more urgent, needy, until a few minutes later they both came, their cries eased in each other's neck.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, their heads into their necks, breathing in their scents, still connected by their bodies.

That was, until the most terrible thing happened.

"Agnes, could you please bring me the-"Harry Selfridge started to say, walking into the her office. Both lovers looked at each other, terrified. Henri's body was covering Agnes's, as he was in front of her. His trousers were still undone, his suspenders down and his jacket and waistcoat on the floor. As for her, she was still pretty dressed… if you didn't take into consideration her skirts were up and her knickers at her knees level.

When Mr. Selfridge lift up his eyes and saw the scene in front of him, he stood frozen. For merely a second, he didn't recognize the man in front of Agnes. But it took him just a moment to realize that the dark blue uniform belonged to the French Army, and then, to his friend Henri.

Agnes and Henri had separated in merely seconds, gathering after themselves, trying to get dress.

"Oh… Mmm.… Mr. Selfridge…" Agnes started, after she had accommodated her knickers and brought down her dress. Her insides were still wet and sticky, both hers and Henri's fluids inside of her, and it felt uncomfortable. Harry looked at her with a horror and shocked face. He noticed that some of her dress's buttons were undone and quickly looked the other way.

"Please finished dressing yourself, Miss Towler" Harry remarked a bit ironically. By then Henri had finished with his trousers and suspenders and turned to look at his friend and former employer.

"Harry" He told him, serious, "I'm so sorry, please forgive me and Agnes-"Harry didn't let him finish, waving his hand.

"Three minutes, Henri" He told his friend, "I want you in my office in three minutes" And with that, he closed the door.

* * *

After the initial shock had passed and they had both cleaned after themselves and got dressed, Henri and Agnes were just standing in front of each other, both absolutely red for what had happened.

"I… I should go with you" Agnes told him, "After all you are not even working here, not at the moment. It was my irresponsibility" Henri shook his head in denial.

"Absolutely not, my love" He contradicted her, "I'm so sorry I put you into this situation… me and my selfish, urgently manners. We should have waited" This time it was Agnes' time to shake her head in negation.

"No, no Henri. I wanted it as much as you, I'm just so sorry that he has seen us" He agreed with her.

"Let's thank God it was only Harry and not Mr. Grove or anyone else" He joked, but she looked even more terrified.

"But Mr. Selfridge is my boss!" She answered in disbelief. He nodded.

"Yes _and_ my best friend. I will make you sure to get you out of the trouble" He finished, giving her a quick peck in her lips.

* * *

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?" _Well, hello to you too, Harry._ Henri thought to himself. But now was not the time.

He sighed.

"I'm so sorry, my friend" He apologized, "I know that was wrong, but please don't get mad with Agnes, she was just-"Harry waved his hand, interrupting him.

"I know you both missed each other, _hell if I know_ , she has been moping since you left. But please Henri, you are the oldest and more mature one, you shouldn't have done that. Not in my _store_!" He knew his friend was right, so he didn't say anything, just nodding. After a few seconds in which not one of them said anything, Harry smiled brightly at him and came rushing to his side, hugging his friend.

Henri welcomed the hug, understanding the embarrassing moment had been left behind.

"So, how have you been?" He asked his friend, now moving to sit at the small table, "Come, take a sit my friend" Henri did as asked, "You want to have some tea?" He asked, and Henri shook his head refusing his offer.

"I was okay. I arrived to Paris, left my things in my apartment in the _Rue Du grâce_ and then went to enlist. As I already have some military training from School and… well… I dare say I'm one of the only ones who can read and speak many languages, they assigned me as _capitaine_ " He finished. Harry opened his eyes in disbelief.

"A _capitaine_? That's great!" He enthusiastically remarked. But then he frowned "What do you mean you are one of the only ones who can _read_?"

Henri sighed, the inevitable truth coming out.

"They are using any healthy man they can get this hands on, Harry" He answered, taking a cigarette out from his pocket, "They majority of them are peasants or workers, who don't even know how to read and can barely only speak French. I don't want to sound disrespectful; those men have the heart of a lion and would fight for France until their dying breath…. But I just don't see how we can win Germany's powerful Army"

When he finished, both men could have sworn the room's temperature had gone down a few degrees.

"Well" Harry started, "There has been some rumors I heard of… but there's nothing real, surely" He continued, "About… about America entering the war" Henri looked at him, surprised.

"Are you serious about that?" He asked, "In which band?"

"Well, England and France's, of course!" He said, "But there's nothing too serious, I just heard the other day at a gathering there was in the American Embassy. It could be all a fuss and nothing too true"

Henri nodded, understanding. If America would enter the war, then maybe they had a chance of winning… but nothing could be said at this stage. Something told Henri this war wasn't going to be over by Christmas as they had been promised.

* * *

Agnes and Henri spent the following week together. Although Harry had offered to give her some days off to spend with him, Henri had refused, saying her job was more important.

So, for the following week they had established a routine. They would wake up at 7 am, have breakfast together and then at 8 am they would head out to the Store, walking slowly and hand by hand. The couple would always arrive ten minutes earlier for work, and Henri had been helping his beautiful Agnes in any way he could, but without getting her too distract from her job, and trying not to interfere with her opinions.

He felt so proud of her, the girl that had been wasted among boxes. She had a real, natural talent; and he was so happy that he had been able to see it years ago. Agnes always said he had taught her everything, but Henri knew it wasn't like that. He had just brought her into that world, but she had learnt all by herself.

 _"_ _I want a job like yours"_ She had told him years ago. And now, she had it.

He dreamed about the moment this horrible war would be over and he'd be able to come back home with his beautiful Agnes, marry her and work together, side by side, as equals.

It was so strange, because he would be in France, which was his actual country…. And yet, he found London to be was home. Henri realized then that home wasn't where you were born, it was where the people you loved were. And the people he loved were in here.

So, he'd go with her to the store, and then at four or five, depending on how much work she had, they would leave the place and go to the small café in front of it to have their afternoon tea. In other circumstances, Henri would have invited her to The Palm Court to have their afternoon tea, but he knew Victor was working there… and he didn't want to bring any more pain to the boy.

After that, they would walk hand by hand to Miss Mardle's house. When he came back, she had immediately told him to stay at their place. She had also given him a room, which was of course a façade because they all knew he was sleeping in the same room as Agnes's by the night.

They would all have dinner at 6 pm, and then would stay in the living room, where Florian would play his violin and the women of the house would read or weave.

Henri found out that Agnes had been improving her French, as it was the Belgium Refugee who had been teaching his fiancée the language. She had already learnt quite a lot her two years in Paris, but it was a bit rusty by now and she still had a lot more to learn.

"If I am going to marry with a Frenchman, I should at least speak the language properly" She had told him, which made him smile. Of course she would do that, of course she had to be _that_ perfect.

Some nights they weren't at the house, as he took her out. It was then when Henri realized Agnes had never been to an Opera, so they went to see one. She loved the experience and the music, and he was so happy that he could share this with her.

One night they went to eat to the Selfridge's house, too. Rose wanted to see Henri one more time, and he discovered the two women had quickly become a bit of friends. No one at the store knew about Rose's illness, except for Agnes, so she had took it into her responsibility to bring some things for the madam to buy.

And then, late at night, when they had both finished their daily obligations and social activities, they would retire to the Agnes' bedroom, locking the door and finding each other again.

Some nights they would make love gently, slowly, trying to remember each other's bodies, trying to form memories.

Others, they would do it passionately and hard, trying to forget what was out there.

Henri taught her new positions, some of which she adored (Oh god, who would have said she would like so much to be in four, his hot body pressed against hers from behind, leaving him access into herself so wonderfully), others not so much (certainly no one could find it comfortable to have your legs up in the air for a long time!), but she knew she had to experience and learn all of that to decide which ones she liked and which ones she didn't. And of course, it had to be him the one to show and teach her all of that. Always the mentor.

After their last time, six weeks ago, Agnes had had a delay in her period. She had been so worried, thinking that their carelessness had led her to get with child. When her period did arrive, some weeks later, she had been so relieved… and so sad, at the same time. She had, after all, unconsciously imagined their children names and how would they look like.

She knew she needed some sort of… protection… to be with Henri. In the middle of the war and still unmarried was not the best time to get herself pregnant. She had heard the ladies talking about a device you sort of put into yourself and that would prevent that from happening. She had heard many women of the night would use it.

So, after much deliberation and many comes-and-goes she had asked the only married woman she could think of: Mrs. Kitty Edwards.

Weeks ago the English had stopped their policy that married woman couldn't work. They now needed the woman to work if they intended this country to continue, so they had changed the law.

As soon as that happened, Mr. Edwards had proposed to Kitty, who accepted. They were now married, and a married woman asking for a contra conception wouldn't be as outrageous as an unmarried one.

Kitty had mocked her a bit, but had finally agreed.

So, now, Henri and Agnes could do this without worrying about consequences… until they wanted to.

* * *

It was Sunday, and this was Agnes's day off. Today, she could be on her bed until late, enjoying herself and her passionate lover.

And so they did, lazily waking up but not getting up. They stayed in silence, just caressing each other.

Tomorrow all of this would end. Tomorrow Henri had to leave for France, not knowing when his next leave or the end of the war would be. How could she live with that? When they had spent such a marvelous week together, such a splendid glimpse of what the future may hold for them?

By nine, they decided they had had enough of just moping around in bed and started the day.

* * *

Sunday's morning had always been Agnes' favorite time as a child, because the Market would be filled with people and exotic things. So they did just that, spending their time in London Street Markets, making a small purchase for the day.

Henri noticed they were selling Lily of the Valley and smiled, remembering what had brought them together all those years ago.

"Henri?" Agnes called him, looking through the crowd until she found him. When she saw what he was doing, she smiled, "Oh, you needn't do that" She told him, her eyes full of silent tears as she watch her fiancée holding a bucket of Lilly of the Valley.

"Oh, but seeing your reaction is worth enough" He answered, handling the bucket, "For you, my love" He told her. The flower was a cheap one, which you could find in almost any bush in the countryside. But for them, it meant so much. It held so much meaning.

"Oh! Mr. Leclair, Miss Towler!" A familiar voice said behind them. Mr. and Mrs. Grove were just there, their two eldest children by their side, "What a wonderful surprise to see you all here!" He said.

Both of them smiled at the married couple. They exchanged their greetings, talking about trivial things as the weather and the market prices.

"So, I heard you are going back to France by tomorrow morning, Mr. Leclair?"Mrs. Grove asked the Frenchman. He sadly smiled at her.

"That's right, Madam" He answered, "My train leaves at 10 am"

"Well, then farewell to you, Mr. Leclair. We will all be praying for you and all our boys and men out there" Mr. Grove solemnly bowed, and although Henri thought it to be old-fashioned, he thanked the man. "We will all be taking care of your beloved Miss Towler while you are out, be sure of that" He smiled at the last bit, realizing how much everyone appreciated and respected his fiancée.

"Yes, _especially_ Mr. Selfridge himself" Mrs. Grove murmured, ironically.

At her words, Henri's face turned serious, and all the presents shut up.

" _Doris_!" Mr. Grove scolded his wife, harshly. He grabbed on her hand firmly and looked at the couple in front of him.

Agnes had shut her eyes close at Doris opinion. _Stupid little brat_ , she thought to herself.

She didn't mind the stupid and totally wrong gossips that were being told about her and Mr. Selfridge, but she surely didn't want to upset Henri or make him doubt of her.

"Em… yes well, we must be doing" Mr. Grove said in a rush, "We have Mrs. Grove's mother taking care of our youngest children, and we need to get there soon. Mr. Leclair, Miss Towler "He dismissed them, and the married couple headed off, murmuring harshly under their breath.

Agnes and Henri stayed like that for a few seconds, not knowing what to say.

"Do you want to go-"Henri didn't let Agnes finish.

"What is all that they say, about you and Harry?" He asked his fiancée, harshly. She sighed and shook her head.

"Who says something?" He laughed at his words.

"Many people, at the store. Don't think I haven't heard them, speaking as I pass through the counters" _How could he believe that?_ He had worked in there; he would go back to work once the war was over… he knew how the salesgirls were, always gossiping, always making up something.

Agnes angrily let go of his hand.

"I can't believe you are asking me this, Henri Leclair!" She screamed at him. He looked at her, angriness in his eyes.

"Oh, yes? And what do you expect me to do?! I pass through the counters and I hear people whispering, saying that the woman I love and my _best friend_ are having an… an affair!" He is as angry as her now, his voice a few degrees louder. They are in the middle of the street and this is not the place to have an argument.

"Oh please Henri!" She exclaimed, her hands on the air, "It wasn't _me_ the one who left the other for another person, _remember_?!" She said, and as soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them.

Henri looked at her, astonished at her words. They hurt more than anything, more than the harsh training he had to endure the past weeks and more than the thought of what he would have to endure from tomorrow.

They hurt, because he knew she was right. He had abandoned her, and that was a wound which would never properly heal.

"Look, Henri" She started, moving her hands in the air, as she did when she was nervous, "I'm sorry about that, I-"She tried to apologized, but couldn't find the right words.

He stopped her.

"No, Agnes" He replayed, "It's okay" He walked away and she followed him.

"Don't walk away from me, Henri Leclair!" She called him, trying to make him stop. Henri looked at her.

"It's okay, my love" He said, quietly, "I'm just going for a walk" And with that, he left.

* * *

Henri didn't know why he had come here, but he just knew he needed to speak with him.

So, when Fraser opened the door and told him to wait there, he suddenly realized he didn't know what he was going to say.

"Oh, Henri!" His friend greeted him, cheerfully, "I didn't expect to see you today, my friend. I thought you were spending your whole day with Miss Towler" As soon as he heard her name coming out from his lips, he flinched. This didn't go unnoticed for the business man.

"What? What is it?" He asked, and Henri looked around, trying to see if Rose or any of their children were around.

"Can I speak to you, privately, Harry?" Harry nodded, extended his arm to the hallway, telling the Frenchman to come inside. They both enter at the man's studio, closing the door behind them.

* * *

"Can I offer you anything, Henri? Tea, coffee… a glass of something stronger, maybe?" Harry asked his friend. He shook his head.

"No, no. It's okay" The businessman had no idea where this was heading. He sat in the chair in front of the big desk, gesturing his friend to sit on the other.

"Okay, so, what did you want to talk about?" He asked.

"Agnes" Was all Henri said and Harry nodded.

"Okay, so, what do you want to ask about Miss Towler?"

"I heard the rumors, Harry. I need to know if they are certain" He tried to put on his best and most demanding voice, trying not to sound cracked. Maybe Agnes hadn't made any moves, but there was also the possibility that his friend had done them, indeed, and she hadn't notice them. He tried to sound strong and complete, but truly he was dying there.

Harry looked at him, confused.

"Rumors? What rumors?" He asked his friend and he chuckle.

"Of you and her, Harry" He explained. Harry's eyes went big as plates, "Have you tried to seduce her? Are you and her-?" He didn't even finish his question when Harry spoke again.

"OF COURSE NOT!" He shouted, angrily, "I had no idea there were such _rumors_ , or I would have stopped them myself, but I've been too caught up with the store… and Rose… to even notice them" He explained, and then look at his friend, "How could you even believe that, Henri? _Agnes and me_? With everything that has been happening with Rose, and you off to fight a war for your country?" He was outraged and pained now. _How could he imagine it?_

Henri sighed, relieved.

"I'm sorry, Harry. It's just-"He tried to explain his actions, "Everyone said so, and I couldn't help myself and be angry- you consider a lot about her, after all. You take care of her a lot" Harry nodded.

"Yes, because I can see myself in her. She was no one when she started, and due to her hard work and people offering her opportunities she raised up to what she is now. I can see myself, the newspaper boy, in her eyes. And her situation with her father…" Henri clench his teeth, thinking that if he ever came crossed that man, he would kill him, "Well, it reminds me a lot about my father… _which I've told you about_!" He screamed. He couldn't actually understand how Henri could believe such vile rumors. Rose and he were the only people he had told them that, " _For God's sake_ , Henri! Agnes is only four years older than my Rosalie! I love her as daughter, and want the best for her _and you_!" Henri looked at him,

"Well, yes, and I'm only six years younger than you… so…" The Frenchman spoke.

"Well, _no_!" Harry cut him short, "I do not… _want her_ … in that way. But with you gone and Rose's illness, I have found in her a true friend. She's a good listener, and I appreciate her for that" Henri nodded. He was right, he had been so foolish. Believing those rumors…, "I hope you haven't upset her with this!

When Henri closed his eyes shut, Harry got the answer for his unspoken question.

"Oh, what the-"

"Yes, _yes_ " Henri said, lifting his arms in the air, "I'm a stupid, an idiot"

"And on the day before you have to go back!" Harry told him, "You must go back to her and explain. She will certainly understand"

Henri would never know how Harry did it, but he always knew what to say. And he followed his friend's advice, going after the woman he loved.

* * *

"Promise me you'll write" Henri begged Agnes, as they found themselves again at the crowded station, holding hands, and minutes before being separated again.

She nodded, fervently.

"Of course I will. Every single day, just wait for my letters and parcels" She promised him. Agnes had even prepared a parcel for him, to take with him on his trip. Just small, useful things, but also something to cling on. She had packed him some socks and gloves, ink and paper for him to write. Some tokens of their office were inside the small bag, as well. "Please, my love, tell me you'll be careful. And if you ever come across George, send him my love and take care of him, as well" Henri nodded.

"I will, I promise you" Neither of them wanted to let go of the other. The argument they had held the other had already passed, both asking each other for forgiveness after their harsh words, and promising to never do that again. After that, they had made love tenderly, reconciling.

But time and war couldn't wait, and now Henri had to leave. So holding her tears back, trying to be strong for him, she let go of his hand. He entered in the small train cabin, the one that would take him to Dover.

When the train left at 10 o'clock, Agnes felt as if a part of her had left with him.

Her heart wouldn't be complete again until she could see him again. When they were together, it was magical; and when they were apart, they were both miserable.

 _How had they endured so long without the other?_

Agnes watched as the train got lost in the horizon, all the other women around her crying as well, and a single thought crossed her mind:

 _Until next time, my love._

* * *

 _So, how did you fin it?_

 _Next time they meet it won't be so nice as this one, because we will have already been at war, a terrible experience._

 _Send reviews or PM's!_

 _V._


	3. Chapter 3

_Good afternoon readers! Here's chapter 3- sorry it took so long for me to update it, but some terrible things have been happening in my life lately... the worst one being my grandmother passing away two weeks ago. So, I couldn't find it in my to write and upload this one._

 _Anyway, this chapter is also dedicated to her... my strong and beautiful italian grandmother, who loved the "Lilly of the Valley" flowers..._

* * *

 ** _Warning: this chapter contains some dates and facts, that do not correspond to the historical real ones._**

* * *

The second time Henri Leclair came back to Agnes Towler was on the first days of May, 1916.

He had been gone nearly a year now, and the war had only gotten worst and worst. Now, Italy and The United States had joined it, and people seemed to think it would end sooner. But Agnes knew better: this was only just the beginning.

Before that, they had been promised the war would be over by Christmas, but the holiday had come and gone, and the terrible battle hadn't stopped. To make things only worst, as the German power grew stronger and stronger, every allied country needed all the capable men to go and fight. There was no chance to stay back now: if you were under forty years old and had no disability, you had to go to the war. The government would pay your family a small amount per month, of course, as all the children and women were left behind, but you had to put your life on the risk.

For Agnes, this had meant that now all the men she cared for were fighting. Victor had been called by both the Italian and English government, and the Italian-raised but British-born man had decided to join the British army, thinking at least, this way, he could be with his friends. And her younger brother George had left for the second time, just after New Year, when his leave ended.

Mr. Florian Dupont, Miss Mardle's lodger and lover, had also been called by the new Belgium government. This had almost destroyed Josie, but she understood he had to go.

The house she lived in was so quiet now, no violin playing after dinner, no laughs heard at night. Josie and Agnes tried to find comfort in each other, going out at night so they wouldn't think of their beloved men and how they must be feeling.

It was in this situation, after one year fighting and bleeding in a French battlefield, when the French Army gave Mr. Leclair a two-week leave period.

When he received the news he had been so happy he had almost forgotten all he had gone through. But then again, there was no way he could forget all of this. The experienced would stay with him forever.

He had seen men, _his men_ , die.

They had perished both in the battlefield and some of them after it, product of the terrible wounds they had been inflicted. The smell of mud, blood and disease following him wherever he went.

But now, he would get the chance to see Agnes, his beloved Agnes, one more time. He smiled at the thought.

* * *

The 1st of May arrived, and Henri started packing his few possessions into his only small bag, heading towards the unstable safety Paris could provide. From there, he would take a train to Calais, cross the channel by boat and another train to London. He would arrived on the first light tomorrow morning and surprise his beloved Agnes.

* * *

Agnes had been the whole day looking out from her office's window, staring at the women and children who were walking and shouting at each other, the mothers giving their children's orders, the children trying to escape and playing between them.

Agnes sighed at the view.

Would she ever be able to have that, normality? Would the universe ever stop trying to get her away from the ones she loved? Was it too much to ask for that, walking by the street holding the hand of the man she loved, their children running around them, happily playing?

She had always thought it would be impossible for her to settle for that life, to abandon her career… but right now, _that_ was everything she wished for. She wasn't too old; her childbearing years hadn't ended yet. Henri and she could perfectly be parents, and she would always be there to help him with his work, if that's what he wanted….

 _That was, if he ever came back from war…_

Agnes shook her head, trying to get those awful thoughts away.

Of course he was going to come back. He had promised her, he was going to come back to her and they would have that dreamed life.

With that thought in mind she put her hands back to work, the great gala she had ahead demanding all her time for now.

* * *

When night fell, both Agnes and Josie were too tired to go out after dinner. Tomorrow would be Sunday, their day off, but all Agnes wanted was to lie on bed, dreaming about Henri one more time.

Back when life was normal, she had wished for her day off, now she feared it. A day without working left her with nothing to do, and awful thoughts would arrive. Thoughts of Henri, George and Victor dead on a French battlefield.

After 7 pm, she was way too tired to engage in any other social activity, so she just retired to her bedroom, closing the door behind it.

Agnes grabbed a book se was reading and Henri's long forgotten coat. Without turning the heating on, she put his coat over her shoulders. It smelled like him: a combination of his tobacco, ink, carbonic paper and his scent. Agnes sniffed into it, the familiar smelling making her smile and dropped a silent tear.

 _"_ _I wish that, wherever you are, you can sleep well tonight my love, and dream of me"_ She thought to herself, as she read the book.

* * *

 _"_ _St. Pancreas's station! St Pancreas' station! All passengers must get off the trains!"_ The guard announced, ringing a bell as he did so.

Henri woke up from his slumber, looking around him, suddenly realizing where he was.

Sleep wasn't an easy thing in times of war, and he was surprised he had slept so well on the train. Since he had joined, his nights were filled with nightmares: seeing his men die, not being able to do a thing about it.

But not last night. Last night he had dreamed being with Agnes, holding her in his arms, safe and protected.

He smiled, suddenly realizing he was just about to do that in a few seconds.

The train station wasn't as crowded as he had seen it, but there were many women and children, looking into the people, trying to find their loved ones. Henri's blue uniform contrasted against the green ones, and everyone gave him a curious look. _Why would a French soldier come to Britain on his leave?_

The clock on his wrist marked that it was 5 am, and Henri immediately put it one hour forward, remembering that on this island they had one more hour that what they did in the continent.

The streets were still quite, only a few people waking up, mostly bakers and market shoppers. Today was Sunday, so bigger stores like Selfridges would be close.

He started walking until he found a taxi, and stopped it. He gave the taxi driver the address he knew by heart by now, and insisted on paying his bill when the taxi driver refused.

"You are out there, fighting a war to save people like me, who are too old to fight it. And listening to your French accent and your uniform, I can only say that if you are here and not in your country is because your girl is from here. This is the least I can do for you, son. Thank you for protecting all of us, French and English." The driver firmly said; and after that Henri didn't have any words left. He just nodded, putting the pound coins he had changed back in Paris back on his left pocket.

" _Merci_ " He thanked the driver and took out his bag over his shoulder.

The driver smiled at him, "Go, son! Go and kiss your lass!" Henri laughed hard this time, and saying goodbye to the cheerful driver, stepped outside the house.

* * *

It was absolutely quiet when he entered, everything staying the same as he had remembered. He had a key to the house now. He smiled at the few photos standing on the small table, which showed all of them during different activates and moments.

One of them was a photo of George on his uniform, looking tall and proud. The other one, showed Florian and Miss Mardle smiling, both of them not being able to contain the love they had for each other. His favorite one was, of course, the one where Agnes was sitting on a chair and he was by her side, looking at her. He took it, looking at her face and smiled.

"Miss Makin- Oh, dear lord!" Miss Mardle cried out, looking at Henri on her entrance hall. As soon as she realized that the noise she had heard wasn't Miss Makington, her housekeeper, but rather her friend's fiancé she stopped on her tracks, a huge smiled plastered on her face.

" _Mr. Leclair_!" She happily announced, "Oh, I'm so happy you could come on your leave! Agnes didn't tell me you were coming!" Henri gave her a smile in return for her kind words.

"Thank you, Miss Mardle, I'm happy to see you too, looking so beautiful and healthy" He replayed and the woman waved her hand in the air, her cheeks red. He certainly knew how to be a proper gentleman, "The reason why Agnes hasn't told you anything, is because I didn't inform her. I wanted to be a… well, I wanted to surprise her" He finished, a bit of a nervous laugh. _Had he been right?_ Maybe he should have told her, it wasn't right for him to invade her privacy. Miss Mardle dismissed his comment.

"Oh, It's okay, Mr. Leclair! This is your house too, don't ever forget about that!" She answered and made him a signal to come further inside.

"Oh, please, in that case call me Henri, Miss Mardle" She nodded.

"Then you must call me Josie, Mr.… _Henri_ " She replayed and he nodded back, "Well, now go and wake Agnes up! She will be so happy when she sees you!" She told him, excited. They really had been in need for good news lately.

"Oh, as I told you I wanted to surprise Agnes, Josie… I've something in mind, would you bother helping me prepare it?" He asked the kind woman, who smiled brightly at him.

"Not at all! Just tell me what's that you need!" After giving her instructions of how to proceed, Henri left the house one more time, and walked towards the nearest street market.

* * *

Finding what he had come to look for hadn't been difficult. The flowers he wanted grew in almost every place on this country and his, and they weren't expensive at all.

What had proved to be a change, though, was carrying the incredible amount of them back to the house. He paid some young boys that were standing there a few pennies to help him, and back at the entrance Josie Mardle was already waiting for him with the door open, happiness and excitement all over her face.

"Has she woken up?" Henri asked her in a low, quiet voice. She shook her head.

"No, not at all. That girl could sleep through a bomb falling over the house!" She joked, and Henri immediately stiffed at her words, but gave her a polite grin, not wanting to be rude or impolite. The woman he had come to see as a combination of a friend and a mother didn't have to know how many _real_ bombs he had watched falling during the past year, how many times he had woken up in the middle of the night and ran, giving orders and trying to save as many lives as possible.

He removed his shoes, leaving them at the bottom of the stairs, and went up, a big bunch of the flowers he bought moments ago on his hands.

At the top of the stairs, he entered in Agnes' room, trying to be as quiet as he could, not wanting to wake her up until he had everything ready.

Inside the room, the curtains were close, letting only a few rays of light sneak into her bedroom.

Henri watched the scene in front of him: Agnes was asleep over the covers, her small figure crawled as a small bun, protecting her from the bitter cold. Before he could think why she had slept like this, he noticed something that broke his heart: She was only being covered by a piece of clothing, his old and long overcoat.

The coat was almost twice as big as her body and covered her perfectly, as when he hugged her. Her right hand was carefully placed inside the pocket and her other one was holding two pieces of paper. Henri needn't get any closer to realize what she was holding to. It was photos, of himself and George.

He suddenly felt a strong desire to go to her side, crawl with her and kiss this incredibly strong and loyal woman. But he thought better, remembering the surprise he had in store for her.

Waking her up would have to wait for a few more seconds, he told him. He hoped she liked the surprise and would forgive him for not waking her up as soon as he got here.

So, as quickly and quietly as he could, he started bringing inside all the buckets of flowers he had bought at the store, placing them where he had imagined and sketched back at the train. After all, he _did_ get a living out of decorating spaces. Only ten minutes later he had finished his task, all things set. So he went down the stairs, where Miss Mardle was already waiting for him with a tray with his request: a full English breakfast, Agnes favourite meal.

He smiled at the woman.

" _Merci_ , Josie" He thanked her, and she smiled back at him. He might be good at some things, as designing, painting, music and arts; but cuisine was certainly not one of his strongest points… especially _English_ cuisine. It was funny, when you realized where he came from and what they said about his people.

Henri opened Agnes' door, and smiled at the view. Not to be egocentric, but the room was marvelous.

He went right to Agnes' left side, noticing she still slept on the right one, as if leaving the left one free for him. Slowly, he placed the breakfast tray on the nightstand table, careful not to wake her up with the sound. Then, he walked towards the window and opened it, sun getting into the dark room, feeling each corner.

As he did so, Agnes started moving in her place, unsettled. Henri went to her side and put his hand on her cheek, overwhelmed by the sensations of finally being able to touch her again.

When Agnes woke up from her slumber, she didn't recognize what was happening at first. Who was there, touching her face? Why had they opened her curtains? Was it so late already?

And then, when she focused on the man in front of her, she almost fell from bed.

"HENRI!" She cried out, getting up fast and throwing her arms around him, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He laughed briefly before he responded to her kissing, both of them having tears round their eyes by now.

 _How could it be? Was she imagining it?_

But no, this couldn't be a dream. It was too real, and her dreams were never this real. She could smell him, feel his taste. In her dreams she would always try to catch him but he would disappear.

Seconds later they broke the kiss, and what she saw left her speechless.

Her room; her usually neat, tidy and ordinary room was now full of flowers… _Lily of the Valley_. They were everywhere, making her room fantastically romantic. They were over her wardrobe, over her nightstands and her small desk. There were Lily of the Valley standing out from her window, and on the curtains… the view was absolutely amazing and breathtaking, and she felt like dying when she looked at her right side and found a tray with a full English breakfast, her favorite meal of the day, and another bucket of flowers on the tray.

She suddenly felt Henri's weight, which had woke her up, lifting from her bed.

"What- What is-"Henri took her hand, and with the other one he grabbed the flowers.

"Do you remember when, years ago, I told you how in the first days of May lovers exchange these beautiful flowers as a token of love in France?" Agnes nodded.

"Well, I haven't forgotten that I never did that for you" He told her, "So here you are, my love. Happy lover's day" He handed her the small bucket, and she felt tears round her eyes.

He had brought back his old traditions for her. Agnes wasn't stupid, she knew he must have done something like this for Valerie many years ago… but now he was here, doing it for her. He had come back from a bloody war just to bring her flowers and show her his love!

" _Henri_ " She murmured, not being able to control her emotions, "You didn't need to…. We are in the middle of a _war_!" She said, as if that was reason enough. He laughed at her.

"Yes, we are _mon chéri_. But that's not excuse at all. I will show you how much I love you from this day forward, until my dying breath" And with that he leaned on, and they kissed.

She had been, after all, truly _unforgettable_.


End file.
